


don't waste another breath

by santanico



Category: Coolgames Inc (Podcast) RPF, McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF, Polygon (YouTube) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Confessions, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Relationship Snippets, complicated adult emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11493333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: He can’t remember the last time he wanted something so bad.





	don't waste another breath

They kiss for the first time on Nick’s balcony, cheap beer cans in hand.

“Okay,” Nick says, and he laughs and ducks his head.

Griffin stares, and then looks back on the horizon.

-

Nick crawls onto the hood of Griffin’s car, spreads his arms.

“Isn’t it hot?”

“Hot,” Nick repeats, closes his eyes. “I love it.”

“You’re always complaining,” Griffin says, hopping onto the top of the car. “You got any cigs?”

“I don’t smoke anymore.”

Griffin laughs. “Okay, sure,” he says, and Nick looks up at him.

“Got any weed?”

“Nah,” Griffin says. “Shit’s a misdemeanor.”

Nick just grins. “Thought you were a big ol’ criminal, but turns out…” He trails off. Closes his eyes.

“Wish you were here,” Griffin says, wistful. The sun’s still leaking color on the horizon. Nick stretches his arms over his head.

“Me too,” he says, instead of arguing, because somehow they both know what the other is thinking.

-

It’s Griffin’s first time in New York in months. Nick says, “Hey, touch my head,” and Griffin laughs, leans over the dinner table and nearly bumps into Allegra’s coffee mug. She watches as Griffin scratches his fingers along Nick’s fresh cut, the softness of the faded shave. Nick leans into it, hums. He’s on his second margarita. Griffin’s had one cider. Still, his mouth goes dry.

Simone’s voice interrupts them. Russ’s laugh, loud and sharp, draws Griffin back into reality, and he sits back. Justin nudges him hard with his elbow and shakes his head. Griffin shrugs. Nick doesn’t seem to have noticed anything changing in Griffin’s mood, or at the table. Pat starts trying to talk over Simone. Griffin doesn’t know what they’re saying. He wants to be away from here. He takes off his glasses, wipes them off on his t-shirt.

As he looks back up, Nick a blurred but smiling image across from him, he realizes the specks weren’t on his glasses.

That’s all him.

-

Nick says, “It’s so fucking good,” and rolls his hips against Griffin’s.

Griffin kisses Nick like he’ll die without it, drags his nails down Nick’s forearms. Nick lets out the most beautiful fucking sound, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, thick and sweet, and Griffin bites down hard on the skin between Nick’s throat and his shoulder.

“Fuck, Griff, why - why didn’t we do this sooner?” Nick breathes as Griffin pushes his pants off.

Griffin shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to say that he doesn’t _know_. He devours Nick’s mouth, quiets him into muffled groans. He can’t remember the last time he wanted something so bad.

-

Nick kisses him on the mouth, standing in the airport.

Griffin’s heart is still racing from jogging up the escalator.

He closes his eyes.

-

“You look ridiculous,” Nick laughs, tugging at the bandana around Griffin’s neck.

“I won’t be sunburnt,” he says.

“It’s called sunscreen.”

Griffin shuts Nick up with a kiss.

Nick drags him to an EDM party, holds his hand the entire time, laughs when Griffin says he feels out of place.

“You think I belong here, more than you?” Nick says.

Griffin looks at Nick. Broad shoulders, soft eyes, hot mouth.

“Yeah,” he says, doesn’t have to hesitate.

“You’re wrong,” Nick says, drags Griffin towards him by the hips.

“I’m too old,” Griffin says, means it to be a joke but Nick’s grinding their hips together in a crowd of twenty-somethings and no one is even sparing them a second glance as the bass throbs. Nick bites Griffin’s earlobe, rubs his thumb up under Griffin’s shirt against his waist.

“No one gives a fuck,” Nick says, and Griffin slips into it, moves his feet, his legs, loses his goddamn mind.

-

Nick takes off his shoes.

“I hate when sand gets in ‘em,” he says.

“Wear sandals?” Griffin says, looking at his feet.

“No,” Nick says, takes long strides across the sand towards the open ocean. He spreads his arms. “I fucking love this,” he says.

“Have you ever lived far from the beach?”

“Not really. Except New York. That fucking sucked.”

Griffin shrugs. “It’s not so bad,” he says. “I don’t usually have anyone to make the trip to the ocean with.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so pathetic. Nick looks back at him, straight-faced, and says, “You ever been to a nude beach?”

Griffin laughs. “No,” he says. “It’s on my bucket list?”

Nick grins, sharp. “Really?”

“No, not really,” he says.

“There’s one in Austin,” Nick says. “I looked it up.”

“When did you do that?”

Nick closes his mouth and turns back around.

“Nick?”

“I wanted to know what was near you.”

“Nick?”

Griffin stands next to Nick, who stands still now, except for the swinging of his arm, holding his shoes.

“I dunno if I could stand it.”

“Stand what?”

“Not being near an ocean.”

“Nick,” Griffin says. Something tightens in his throat, knocks his breath away.

“But you love Austin, don’t’cha?”

“You love San Francisco.”

“Rent sucks.”

“Rent sucks. Welcome to the city.”

Nick looks at him. “You know what I mean, don’t you?” he says.

“Fuck Texas.”

Nick sniffs and sighs. “Yeah. I hear ya.”

-

Nick drags Griffin out of the hot tub.

“Come on, buddy,” he says, and Griffin groans.

“It’s so hot. I’m melting, Nick.”

The cameras are off, Clayton and Tara and Justin and Simone are gone. Allegra and Pat are in the pool, swimming laps, but they’re both so quiet that Griffin can barely remember they’re there.

“Melt into me,” Nick says.

“Dumb. You dummy,” Griffin says. The concrete under them is so cool. “I’m drunk out of my balls’ mind.”

“That makes no sense, dude. Here.” Nick helps Griffin sit up. “Put your head in my lap.”

“You’re so soggy, Nick,” Griffin says, his cheek on Nick’s thigh.

“You are, too,” he says, touches Griffin’s hair.

Griffin closes his eyes. Even in the dark, the world spins.

“Did we do good this week?” he says.

Nick hums. “I think we did,” he says. Griffin rolls onto his back and Nick shifts to make room.

“Wanna get married?” Griffin says, looking up at Nick.

Nick peers down at him, cups Griffin’s head between his hands. “You really are wasted,” he says, too quiet.

Griffin closes his eyes. “You look real good.”

“You say that a lot,” Nick says.

“It’s true.”

“I’m gonna take you back to your room. Mkay?”

“Mmmm-kay,” Griffin says. “Can I sit here? Just for another minute? Please?”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick says, brushes his fingers across Griffin’s temples. “That feel good?”

“God, yes, you know it does. Don’t be mean.”

Nick smiles.

-

Griffin’s thirty.

He isn’t supposed to be in the back of Nick’s car.

Nick isn’t supposed to be in his lap.

“This is stupid,” Griffin had said.

Nick had shoved him against the seats and said, “I don’t care,” and Griffin found that he didn’t, either, all of the sudden.

“Miss you,” Nick says, shoving Griffin’s boxers down his legs.

Griffin swallows. “Nick,” he says. His neck is straining, and they’ve shifted. He’s backed against the car door and Nick’s got one leg on the floor, the other tucked between the back of the seat and Griffin’s thigh. Nick’s looking at Griffin’s cock, opening his mouth. “Oh, fuck,” Griffin says. Sinks his fingers into Nick’s hair. “More. More, more, more.”

Nick lets him be selfish and vain.

Griffin complains of sore muscles for days, but Nick just grins at him.

-

“Hey, Griffin?”

“Yeah,” Griffin says, looking at Nick where he’s sitting on the floor.

“I love you.”

Griffin huffs out a breath. Nick is quiet.

“I love you, too,” he says.

It isn’t that they haven’t traded those words before.

So why does Nick look so - Griffin grapples for the right word.

Nick says, “I wanna go somewhere new. Somewhere that isn’t one of our apartments. Or a hotel. Drive me someplace.”

Griffin doesn’t even bother thinking about it. “Yeah,” he says. “Right now? Let’s go.”

“Let’s go.”

-

They end up in a park near Houston.

“We could have gone to the beach but it’s kinda late.”

“I’ll drive back,” Nick says. “This is good.”

“It is good,” Griffin agrees.

Nick climbs onto a swing, feet planted on the thick rubber. He starts to rock himself forward, then back, until he’s got an actual rhythm built.

“Want me to push you?” Griffin says, laughing as Nick turns and flashes his middle finger at him.

“This is the only thing I give a shit about,” Nick says.

Griffin sits on the bench near the swings and watches Nick continue to swoop, a slow pendulum.

“We’re both in NYC next month, right? Wanna make plans ahead of time for once?”

“What? Gonna take me to dinner?”

“Someplace nice, why not.”

“‘Cuz I can’t afford it,” Nick says.

Griffin laughs. “I can treat you to dinner, once in awhile.”

Nick’s quiet for a moment. “Okay. But not as a favor. Just because you’re desperate for my approval.”

Griffin blinks. “You know me too well,” he says.

“Sure fuckin’ do.”

-

Griffin doesn’t love when they do this - at least not after the fact - but he can’t help it. Hasn’t heard Nick’s voice in a week and Nick’s laughing and making fun and Griffin’s caught up and he’s saying, “Nick, I’m turning off the recording, we’ll be a day late, okay?”

And Nick’s laughing some more, says, “Sure, sure, you gonna jerk off for me?”

And Griffin’s leaning back in his chair and groaning and saying, “Yeah, fuck, I know,” and Nick’s looking at him through his webcam like it’s the most fascinating thing. Griffin wants to hide his face but he resists. They’ve been doing this long enough. He should be used to it.

Nick’s voice dips low and dirty, “You wanna fuck my mouth? Is that what you’re thinking?”

And it wasn’t - Griffin was thinking about Nick’s thighs, about the line of his cock through his underwear, then about walking hand-in-hand in the city, then about Nick’s laugh, but now, yes, “Yes,” he says, sighs and tips his head back.

Griffin’s orgasm rushes in too fast, Nick doesn’t even get to describe much about blowing Griffin before Griffin spills into his palm with a choked dry sob.

Nick lets out a breath. “Was just getting to the good part,” he says.

“Sorry,” Griffin says, grabbing a tissue. He knows his cock isn’t on display but he’s still embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Nick says. “I like hearing you.”

Griffin just wants to say, “No, I like hearing _you_ ,” as if that means anything, but he just swallows and nods.

“Can I keep talking?” Nick says. Griffin looks at the camera. Nick’s got one hand on the desk and the other in his lap. Like Griffin, he’s not visible anywhere below his ribs.

“You don’t - I can do the talking,” Griffin says, because he can. “I can handle it.”

“No,” Nick says. “I wanna tell you about how good it is when you fuck my throat.”

Griffin groans. “Fine. Go for it,” he says.

-

Nick shows up in San Diego.

Griffin kisses him until he loses his breath.

They drive back up to San Francisco in the very dead of night.

Nick lets Griffin control the aux cord. He blasts Carly Rae Jepsen, TLC, Jimmy Buffet for good measure. Nick scoffs at him at the appropriate intervals. Complains about tolls. Griffin gives him twenty dollars.

Nick falls asleep at four in the morning, next to Griffin in Nick’s tiny apartment, in Nick’s tiny bed, Nick’s roommates complaining before they, too, fall back to sleep.

Griffin’s blood buzzes and he finally passes out with the rising sun.

**Author's Note:**

> \- follow @[kevinspaceyvoice](https://kevinspaceyvoice.tumblr.com/) if you wanna know what the fuck kinda nonsense me n notinthisarmy are up to  
> \- i was listening to [this playlist](https://playmoss.com/en/valeriestahl/playlist/reading-the-bible-for-a-change) that i definitely made myself while i wrote this


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